


please don't pretend to be the one thing I've always wanted, I don't think I could handle that

by undernightlight



Series: Gays in Space [31]
Category: Red Dwarf (UK TV)
Genre: Angst, Episode: s05e03 Terrorform, Hurt Arnold Rimmer, M/M, Suicidal Thoughts, implied suicidal thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2020-10-30
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:34:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27197902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/undernightlight/pseuds/undernightlight
Summary: They said such nice things to him, nice enough that he believed that he was valued, that he was irreplaceable, that they, as a ragtag, makeshift crew, could actually be called a family. They said such nice things for just long enough to get what they wanted and not one second longer.Rimmer didn’t know how to breathe.
Relationships: Dave Lister/Arnold Rimmer
Series: Gays in Space [31]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/951465
Comments: 5
Kudos: 50





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this episode is my villain origin story

He should’ve just taken it, taken the love and the compliments and held them close and not let them go, but he didn’t, he had to open his mouth and ask them, “You didn’t really mean any of that, did you?” He should never have opened his stupid, little mouth.

Rimmer stared at the back of them. He couldn’t speak, wouldn’t know what to say if he could. He left the room, focusing on putting one foot in front of the other, shaky footsteps carrying him from the cockpit and away. He managed to reach the corridor before he finally caved; his weak knees gave out, and only just managed to latch to a rail to keep himself from becoming a heap on the floor.

Somehow, despite knowing how they felt, despite knowing how much they hated him, he’d wanted to believe. He’d wanted to believe they cared about him. He let himself believe it. He was an idiot, a foolish, somehow still hopeful man who was so desperate for approval and acceptance he was willing to bask in it, even when it came from them, people that were so different he could despise them purely on that fact alone, but of course he didn’t. They were the people he was desperate to be liked by, and he hated how much it hurt that they didn’t.

He knew it, but hearing it like that, after words of kindness, regardless of how manipulating those words were, it felt like he was falling apart, despite never feeling like he was really ever put together to begin with.

His holographic lungs burned without his simulated breath, and he finally managed to breathe in. With what strength he could muster, he pushed himself to his feet, though he refused to let go of the rail, and make his way through the ship. Where he was going he wasn’t sure, but anywhere away, that was all that mattered.

He locked himself in one of the cargo holds, double and triple checking the locking mechanism. It had been a surprisingly long time since he’d really cried, and though now, as a hologram, he knew he couldn’t produce tears, his body could still go through the motions, still shake with every sob that wracked his form like earthquakes. He could still crunch his eyes tightly shut, but he wouldn’t feel the usual stabbing pain behind his lids, nor would they feel stiff and dry when he opened them.

He’d figured out he couldn’t cry when he, Lister and Cat had watched a film together, back before Kryten. Rimmer couldn’t even remember what film it was, it was one Lister had raided from a crew member's locker, and all he remembered was laughing harder than he ever had before. And it wasn't laughter at someone’s expense - usually Lister - it was just full, well meant laughter. He’d laughed so hard he keeled over in his bunk, and if could’ve, he would’ve cried from laughing so much.

He remembered passing up his blanket, Cat refusing to huddle under Lister’s, and Rimmer didn’t need his, so he’d chucked it up. Lister offered him popcorn before he remembered he couldn’t eat it, and even apologised for forgetting. Lister had smiled at him too before popping his head back up to his bunk.

Thinking back to that, Rimmer felt nauseous. Really, he couldn’t be blamed for thinking that maybe they were friends, or at least that they didn’t hate him, but then again, he never was the best judge of character. 

He pressed at the bridge of his nose, digging his finger and thumb into his eyes. It didn’t really hurt, not properly, just this dull sense that there should be pain and his brain was trying to fill in the gap. His brain wasn’t doing a very good job, but when had it ever.

Rimmer only managed a few steps into the room before his legs finally gave up and stopped working. He hit the metal floor in a crash which he was sure would be painful if he could feel that kind of pain, but because he couldn’t, it didn’t hurt at all. So badly did he wish that to be true for all his pain, but it wasn’t. He hurt and ached like he never had before and it was his own fault for believing them to begin with. They could never love him, never care for him, could barely even pretend to like him.

The room span as he finally gave in and let out a strangled sob. It was a hideous sound, coming from a truly hideous man.

_Is it not true that you despise yourself?_

It was true. Rimmer couldn’t think of a time in his life when he was happy to be himself, when he hadn’t wished so desperately to be anybody else. He never let it show of course, manifesting a confident, cocky persona, because how could someone so full of themselves actually wish…

He wanted to stop that train of thought, a track not travelled down since he was seventeen years old but still a track well worn through years and years of use.

_That you detest your own incompetence and stupidity? That you hold yourself in contempt for your countless failures and disappointments?_

He really had tried. The exams, he’d studied best he could, but whenever he opened his textbooks, the words seemed to disappear, to melt into the page, or they would rearrange themselves to nonsense. He tried - he wanted to make his father proud - but nothing seemed to work.

It wasn’t fair. It was just mean and cruel, and what had he done to deserve this?

Rimmer curled in on himself on the cargo hold floor. He felt like a child again, all those times he’d been locked in his room, in the darkness of boarded up windows and in the comfort of a broken mattress on the floor.

_Is it not true you feel nothing but the deepest, blackest cansour for that walking vomit stain the world calls Arnold Rimmer? Is it not true?_

It was true, but at least he wasn’t alone in that. They all thought so too.

Rimmer still wept, driving himself to unconsciousness as his lightbee couldn’t handle the stress, and yet somehow, he took comfort in the fact that at least he wasn’t the only one that thought he was a waste of space.

Nobody would miss him if he just stopped being.


	2. Chapter 2

It had been over an hour, close to two, and they still hadn’t seen Rimmer. Lister couldn’t exactly blame the guy, but it wasn’t like Rimmer to be gone for so long. Normally, he would’ve slinked himself back into the cockpit and sat at his station until someone said something he could berate, and then take his time and enjoyment picking apart whatever they said. Normally, but there had never been a situation like this before, so outright cruel.

He knew they’d crossed a line. He saw in Kryten’s face too, a little on the Cat but not so much. They always made fun of each other, that’s what they did, the Boys from the Dwarf, but there had always been a line, drawing long ago, so maybe that was why they’d missed it then for it had faded, but they crossed that line. Lister wasn’t even sure how they’d crossed it, what exactly was said or how it was said that pushed it over the edge, but he knew they'd done it.

Eventually, Lister pushed himself from his chair, giving all control over to Cat. Kryten was in the small kitchenette, and Lister gave a smile as he walked on by, one Kryten returned before continuing with his cleaning.

He went searching, checking into every door he passed. He’d scan the room, find it empty, and move on. Starbug wasn’t a big ship, Rimmer couldn’t have gotten far. When he came to the cargo hold door and found it locked for a reason unknown to him, he guessed that maybe Rimmer was inside.

“Rimmer?” He called out as he knocked against the door. Nothing. “Rimmer, it’s just me.” Still nothing. “If you don’t say anything I’m going to override the lock.” He waited, expecting to hear a holler back, but still, it remained silent. “Rimmer I mean it, I’m coming in.” And when nothing else came, that was what he did.

He expected to see Rimmer, the man whipping around at Lister's presence and then to scream at him or make some comment that got right under Lister's skin or even just walk out without saying a word, but when Lister stepped into the room, he found he was the only person there. There was a box knocked over by his feet which seemed out of place, but that was it, the rest of the room remained untouched. Confused but still determined to find Rimmer, Lister turned to leave, when something caught his eyes, and turning back, he realised it was a lightbee. 

It had to be Rimmer’s - they didn’t have any spares - and he, at first, took two cautious steps to it, before he realised that if Rimmer’s form had deactivated, then it wasn’t good. He rushed to the bee and scooped it into his hand. There was heat, just a little, but it was alarmingly cold. Lister rushed from the room, clutching the lightbee against his chest as he dashed.

“Kryten!” He screamed out, and the mechanoid rounded into the corridor a few moments later. “Kryten, it’s Rimmer.” He held out the bee, his hands shaking slightly.

Kryten went to take the lightbee from him, but his hand pulled back when he touched it. “It’s cold,” he said, stating what Lister already knew. “We need to get him to the infirmary, now.” Their feets scuffed along the floor as they practically ran to the infirmary, tripping over each other as they went but managing to stay upright.

The infirmary always smelt like rubbing alcohol, and it hit Lister list a wall when he stepped in, careful to not catch his foot on the lip of the door. The holobed, designed specifically for Rimmer, was pushed back against the wall, rarely used but they’d never gotten rid of it and Lister was thankful as he carefully placed Rimmer’s lightbee into the recess on the mattress.

A few seconds passed before Rimmer’s form started to return, slowly building opacity, phasing in and out until eventually, he was completely opaque, as close to solid as he could get. Rimmer pushed himself upright, looking down at his hands, then his surroundings, then to Lister and Kryten. Lister’s worried face softened. He was relieved, but that wasn’t all. Rimmer’s face was alarmingly red and blotchy, and he knew what that meant, what had happened before Rimmer’s bee had deactivated, for a reason Lister still didn’t know.

“Rimmer?” He asked, voice quiet as he took a step closer. Rimmer looked through him, aware of him but only just. Lister turned to Kryten, “Is he alright?”

The mechanoid stood at a computer terminal as the screen flashed and scrolled with data. “It appears his lightbee was overheating sir. Mr Rimmer would’ve lost consciousness in an attempt to reduce the temperature, but when that didn’t work, it must’ve switched to standby mode.”

Lister tried again, turning his attention back. “Rimmer? Rimmer man, are you alright?” Eyes refocused, and Rimmer’s gaze finally settled on his face. List couldn’t help but give a gentle smile. “Hi,” he said. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting from Rimmer, but the look of pain and anger disgust that formed on his face was not what Lister was prepared for.

Rimmer pushed himself from the bed without a word and headed for the door. “Rimmer!” Lister called out, but he didn’t get a response, so he followed him out into the hallway. “What happened man? I found you in the cargo hold and your projection wasn’t on, I was worried.”

At those words, Rimmer whipped around, so fast and so sudden that Lister nearly went through him. Lister could see the tension in his jaw, could see his eyes get glossy, could see the rage held in his entire body. In a voice barely above a whisper but solid enough to shake Lister’s core, he simply said, “Shut up,” and walked off. Lister was too taken aback to follow, and that was where Kryten found him a few moments later.

“Mr Lister sir?” He asked. “Are you alright?”

“Urm, yeah, yeah Krytes, I’m good.”

“You don’t look good sir. Perhaps you’d like to sit down for a moment.”

He swatted away the android’s fussing hands. “I’m fine Kryten.” With a deep breath, he straightened himself. “I’m going to go find Rimmer.”


	3. Chapter 3

Lister eventually found him in one of the back rooms, the one Lister was relegated to if his food was deemed too smelly by at least half the crew. He’d already checked there and found it empty, so was confident in saying Rimmer had been actively circling the ship to avoid him, or perhaps to just avoid everyone. When he entered, Rimmer looked up, but his eyes gave away nothing.

“I’ve been looking for you man,” he said as he took careful steps into the room. He took a seat beside him, attempting a smile. Rimmer’s eyes just followed him, and he did not return the smile. “What happened back there?”

Silence stretched on as Rimmer just stared at him, attempting to bore holes through Lister’s skull, and it felt like he was partially succeeding; Lister was used to scowls and scrunched up features and looks of exhaustion, but he wasn’t used to blank, heavy stares.

“Rimmer come on,” he tried pleading, “Something happened that caused your bee to shut down, I was worried something bad had happened.” Rimmer’s eyes softened slightly, but not out of warmth, but out of exhaustion, his eyes still dull.

“I’m fine,” Rimmer said, his voice flat like his expression.

“But you’re not though, are you?” They sat again in silence, Rimmer refusing to answer, leaving Lister to think hard and heavy. It had to do with the pys-moon, he knew that. Rimmer had seen some pretty intense things, figments of his imagination yes, but on that moon, all very real. Lister had heard it too, the deep, booming voice, the monster of self-loathing that called out to Rimmer, and Rimmer had agreed with it; Lister had known Rimmer a long time, but rarely did the man admit he had such low feeling in regards to himself.

Rimmer had come face to face with his most fearsome beast, and he’d...and Rimmer had given up, and agreed with the monster that he was worthless, had agreed that he despised himself.

A coldness washed over Lister when he thought about it, and then he asked, "Rimmer, did you…did you switch yourself off?" 

"I don't know. I was thinking about it when I lost consciousness, so maybe I did." The reply came too casually, too brush away for Lister’s liking, especially when Rimmer had barely spoken since he’d sat down with him.

"Why would you do that? You'd die."

"I'm already dead."

No, that wasn’t fair. "You know what I mean. Why would you do something like that?" 

Finally, the blank expression cracked, but Lister wished, when he was what was hiding beneath, that maybe the mask was easier to look at, to deal with, because he didn’t like what he saw; the rage fueled disgust that spread across his face with ease was unlike anything Lister had seen before, and was wholly un-Rimmer like.

"Are you really that dense that you can sit there and ask me that?" His tone was equally off putting, heavy and low, a far cry from Rimmer’s normal nasal, whining tone. Lister didn’t like it.

“We’re off the psy-moon, you’re safe now man.”

“That’s all you think this is?

So he was wrong, it wasn’t the psy-moon, but what else? Lister thought, and he was embarrassed that it took him so long to remember what else had happened, how they’d all said such nice things, so then take it back in an instant. Lister felt like an idiot; why did he think that was a good idea, so shout back ‘no,’ to a man who’d just lost to his own dark emotions.

"If this is about earlier, I didn't mean it."

"I know, don't remind me."

"I don't mean that, I mean the bit after, when I said no, I didn't mean it. I do care man."

"You expect me to believe you? You went out of your way to make me feel valued, like a proper person, and then you took it away.” Rimmer stood, pushing himself away from the table and away from Lister. “You tricked me to get us off that psy-moom but that was all, and I won't be tricked again."

Rimmer left. Lister stood and scrambled after him, just catching a glimpse of Rimmer as he phased himself through a bulkhead, and Lister sighed, knowing that if Rimmer was willing to travel through solid objects, which Lister knew he hated, then he was utterly and totally screwed.

He waited a while, joining Cat in his shift in the cockpit, hoping whatever time he could put between him and Rimmer would calm the hologram, but he wasn’t hopeful. He’d royally messed up. Somehow, he hadn’t realised it would affect Rimmer this much; they always joked and teased each other, it was just what they did, and when he said ‘no,’ intandem with the Cat and Kryten, that’s what he was doing, joking, but he should’ve known better.

They’d escaped a moon where Rimmer had finally given into his own self hatred, then Lister told him he loved him, that he cared, and just when Rimmer thought maybe he couldn’t believe it, he’d ripped it away.

Though he tired of Cat's fashion fueled ramblings rather quickly, he waited. He was patient, he had to be, or things with him and Rimmer would just stay this way, or get worse, god forbid it gets worse. It gave him time to think though, about what he would say to Rimmer to convince him, what he could possibly say that would let the man know that he really did care about him, that they were friends and that he was irreplaceable; everything he came up with sounded clunky and inelegant, though he supposed that fit for him, but he wanted to make it special, make it mean something more than just the words. Nothing he came up with seemed to fit that. 

Eventually, he took his leave and went on his second Rimmer-hunt of the day. He found him surprisingly easy, tucked away in one of the bunks, just his feet sticking out when Lister had swung his head into the room. He stepped in, making a point of heavy steps so he could be heard. Rimmer made no acknowledgement of him until Lister could see his face, and he found his eyes were already on him. 

Not knowing what else to do, Lister shuffled up beside Rimmer on the bed, his feet falling short of Rimmer's by a few inches. Part of him hoped Rimmer would speak first, break the tension, but he was the one that needed to do, to say so many things, and so he did it just took him a few moments to get it together and speak.

"I was only joking with you earlier, about not caring. Of course I care, you're my friend. We've been through thick and thin together, and it means a lot to me that you've stuck by me." He fiddled with his hands in his lap, focusing on them rather than risking looking at Rimmer. "We joke around a lot us two, calling names and you know, generally harmless stuff, because when it comes down to it, we've got each other's backs. It's what we do, the Boys from the Dwarf, but with you man, I mean, it's different, it's special."

He dared a glance. Rimmer wasn't looking at him, staring off into middle distance, but his expression had softened, tired, and so Lister continued. 

"You've known me so long, know me better than anyone else, and I probably know you better than anyone too really, so we've got a connection like, like, I don't know what it's like because I've never had it before. Rimmer man, I care, and I'm sorry that I said I didn't earlier, I wasn't thinking, I wasn't using what few brain cells I actually have, and I just said what thought would be funny but it wasn't funny, and it wasn't fair on you, I know that, I do." Lightening his town, cutting out the misery, he said again, "You're my friend, and I care about you."

Then the room fell silent. He kept glancing between his hands and Rimmer's face and Rimmer's hands and the empty drink's can on the table across the room, and it was beginning to make his eyes hurt, though he supposed that didn't matter really; though a different kind of pain, it must be a lot less than Rimmer's. 

Rimmer's face, though not stiff, was just generally tired and didn't give away much. His eyes were glazed over and passive, and Lister hoped he'd listened because he didn't want Rimmer feeling like this for another second. But then, Rimmer looked up at him and offered a small, sad smile as a show of acknowledgement, before turning away again, as if dismissing him. Lister wasn't leaving. 

He felt like he already knew the painful answer to the painful question, but he still asked. “You don’t believe me, do you?”

Rimmer shook his head.

“Will you ever believe me?”

For a few seconds Rimmer was still, but then he shrugged.

“Rimmer, I’m sorry man, I mean it, I really am.”

Rimmer nodded.

They stayed in silence for however long it was until Lister needed to go on shift. The air was still heavy and Lister still didn’t know what to say to convince Rimmer that he meant what he said. He had a feeling it would take more than words, that a few sentences were not enough to undo the damage he’d done, the damage that the man had sustained all his life. Lister tried not to think about how long it would take to make Rimmer believe, as he pulled himself to his feet.

He stood still, thinking, debating, before finally, "can I ask you something?" Rimmer looked at him, and after a few seconds, he nodded once. "Your lightbee, did you actually..." 

He struggled, couldn’t say it aloud again, and he wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer, but Lister also knew he needed to, needed to know if that’s how low they were starting.

"Honestly," came Rimmer's voice, timid and dry, "I don't know."

"But, you were thinking about it?" 

"I thought about it, that's all I know."

So that’s where they were starting, as low as they could get, but despite the twist and ache it gave Lister’s stomach and sides, there was one silver lining, that now he could show Rimmer, from beginning to end, what it was like to be cared for.

"Come to shift with me," he said, motioning.

"Why?"

"I don't want you on your own."

Rimmer tried to defend, "I'm not a child Lister, I can look after myself,” but his tone lacked any real bit to it. 

"Please, just keep me company then, just you and me, like back in the old days."

Rimmer dragged a tired hand down his tired face, pulling at his features. He stared a few moments, analysing Lister, before pushing himself off the bed and to unstable feet. Lister couldn’t but smile something a little giddy. He started for the door when,

“Lister,” was called out, small and scared in a way he’d never heard, and he turned to see Rimmer still rooted in place by the bunk. “Can you promise me something?”

“Anything man, you name it.”

Rimmer took a shaky breath. “I don’t want things to change, not really. We’ll still joke and insult each other and get on each other’s nerves, but, can you just promise that…” His voice trailed, still unsure, and Lister took steps back to him, patiently waiting, comforting in whatever he could to a soft light hologram. “Please, just don’t make me feel like this again.”

And oh, how that could’ve broken Lister. That’s all Rimmer wanted of him. “Of course,” he replied, “I’ll do everything in my power to never make you feel like this again.” And he meant it, because he knew he was going to do so much more, make Rimmer feel so much more than this; he never wanted Rimmer to feel this low again, and he never, ever, wanted to be the cause of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this ended up taking quite a different turn than I was expecting, I don't know, I was intending it to be more slashy, but it didn't feel right - it felt far too forced when I tried what I had written - so this it what you got, hope you still liked


End file.
